


14 Days

by a_4_patch_problem



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Confession, First Kiss, Johnlock - Freeform, Johnlock Fluff, Love Letters, M/M, Notes, Pining Sherlock, cheesy sherlock, johnlock holiday, johnlock kiss, leaving clues, valentines day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-01
Updated: 2014-02-01
Packaged: 2018-01-10 18:27:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 5,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1163044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_4_patch_problem/pseuds/a_4_patch_problem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And then Sherlock looked at the calendar, noticing the sickly cheesy red heart around the date, two weeks from then.</p>
<p>Valentines Day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Day 1

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly have no idea what I'm doing here. Tell me if you want this continued, and if you do, I'll try to finish it by Valentines day. Suggestions are always welcome!  
> xx Lex

It had all come to Sherlock when John pushed him out of the way to save him from the gunfire.

As he was falling to the ground, John pressed against him, he realized he liked John. Yes, of course he liked John. John was a friend. But this felt like more. Oh god, Sherlock was  _feeling_ things. This wasn't good. But it felt good. Whenever he thought of John, there was a warm sort of tingly feeling that made its way from his chest to his face, and he couldn't deny the fact that he  _loathed_ every single one of John's dull girlfriends.

And then Sherlock looked at the calendar, noticing the sickly cheesy red heart around the date, two weeks from then.

Valentines Day.

Now, Sherlock despised all holidays.

But this seemed like the perfect chance to hint to his slight attraction to John. Well,  _slight_ was an understatement, but he wouldn't admit it to himself. Not yet.

So, what exactly did one do when asking someone to "be their Valentine?" Sherlock faintly remembered the frilly, pink, heart shaped cards everyone had always handed out in grade school. Hm. He could do cards. But frilly pink ones weren't really his style. When they got home and John retired to his room, Sherlock glanced over and noticed a stack of post-it notes lying on the cluttered table.

_Perfect._

He realized almost instantly that though John was no genius, he could probably guess that it was Sherlock writing him notes if they were posted in their shared flat. No-one else really entered Baker Street. No criminal could sneak in without John noticing, him being trained to pick up the slightest sounds in his army days.

Maybe leaving them at John's office at the surgery would work.

Slipping on his coat, Sherlock walked briskly outside and hailed a cab, the stack of paper heavy in his pocket. He easily faked his way through the security of the hospital and went to John's office. Having stuck the note on the back of his chair, Sherlock grabbed a stray pen from the desk and began to think of what to write.

_~~I love you.~~_  No, too strong.

~~_I am slightly attracted to you_~~. God no, that was so  _Sherlock_ that John would guess right away.

_John, you make my day better without even trying._

Well, it was true. Being around John made Sherlock happier, even if he didn't show it. With a careful glance at the peice of yellow paper sticking on the chair, Sherlock left, wondering what John would think.

_God_ , this whole thing was incredibly tedious.

 


	2. Day 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anyways, it was probably one of those nurses trying to constantly hook up with him. Well, sorry ladies, John Watson is hopelessly in love with his flatmate already! His male flatmate, actually.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is short because WRITERS BLOCK YAY.
> 
> xx Lex
> 
> (Also, can I make it so each chapter posts on a certain date? I'm going to do a lot of chapters today and I want each of them to post on their corresponding days.)

When John walked into his office the next morning, he was a bit surprised to find a hastily written note stuck to his chair. He hoped that it wasn't like, a sex invitation or something.

_John, you make my day better without even trying._

Oh god, he'd read that in his head in Sherlock's voice. Not good. Anyways, it was probably one of those nurses trying to constantly hook up with him. Well, sorry ladies, John Watson is hopelessly in love with his flatmate already! His male flatmate, actually. Sighing, John peeled the note off and tossed it in the trash can. He couldn't worry about that right now, there was work to be done, and probably a case afterwards.

~

Sherlock observed John's demeanor carefully when he arrived home. Hm. Nothing had changed. No shifty glances. blushes, questioning stares. He didn't seem like he suspected anything. Good.

Later on, after they had solved a particularly easy case, (it's always the wife), John went up to his room to sleep. As soon as he heard the lights flick off. Sherlock jumped up, grabbed the post-it notes again, and ran out of the flat.

The cab ride was quick, and Sherlock was soon standing in John's office, contemplating what to write. He noticed John had thrown his last note in the trash. Though Sherlock knew it was only because John thought the writer was one of the other nurses, it still sent a cold pang to his chest. It still hurt. Oh, his feelings were causing him  _pain_ now. How utterly fantastic. Hm, well at least he knew what to write now. John should know that he caused Sherlock pain.

_Sometimes it hurts me that you don't know how I feel._

There, maybe he'd get a reaction out of John now.

And then, Sherlock realized that John didn't know who he was. And it had to stay that way for another 12 days.

Great.


	3. Day 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was tricky, this secret admirer stuff. Sherlock now knew why he'd never attempted it before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All of you are so lovely, I didn't think anyone would read this. (special thanks to thing2 because of all your nice comments).
> 
> xx Lex

_Oh god, not again._ John thought when he noticed the yellow paper stuck to his computer screen. 

_Sometimes it hurts me that you don't know how I feel._

Well if it hurt, John thought that they would just tell him in person. It would be the smart thing to do. He pulled the note from the glowing screen and rubbed the paper between his fingers. The handwriting looked forcibly neat. As if someone had made their handwriting neat so John wouldn't recognize it. This was probably Sarah. John knew her handwriting well since he reveiwed her paperwork sometimes, and she probably realized that. "Sarah!" he called out. Alright, he would just end this now.

Heels clicked, and his office door opened to reveal a slightly annoyed Sarah leaning against the frame. "What d'ya need, John? I'm with a patient." John held up the note with an amused expression.

"Do you happen to know who's left me these?" At that, she looked genuinely confused. Damn, he'd gotten it wrong, hadn't he. Sherlock would laugh.

"No John. sorry. I'd tell you if I did. You're lucky though, seems like you've got a secret admirer."

A secret admirer. How elementary.

~

This was tricky, this secret admirer stuff. Sherlock now knew why he'd never attempted it before.

He also knew John had ruled out Sarah, since he was texting her, but not looking too interested. If he still thought it was Sarah, he'd either have asked her out on a date, or flat out ignored her.

Well, it would be best if John didn't date anyone right now. That would ruin things quite a bit.

Tonight, Sherlock didn't wait till John went to his room. He simply waved and muttered, "Going out", tied his scarf, and walked out onto the street with his coattail swishing behind him. He'd found a back entrance, and went through there instead of the front door. It was easier. No-one would see him. No-one would tell John.

This time, when Sherlock entered John's office, there was a note already left for him. Interesting. John was writing back now. He hadn't really prepared for this at all, despite usually being 5 steps ahead of everyone.

_It'd be kind of pointless to ask who you are, since I know you won't tell me. So, have we met before? -JW_

Tapping his pen against the table, Sherlock thought of a response.

_Many times. You're incredibly important to me._

He wondered if that was too big of a clue. But John's knowledge of him was that he was an asexual sociopath married to his work, so Sherlock didn't think John would guess that he was the person sending notes.

And this time, Sherlock had gotten John a present. He pulled out the light object, the papery material it was wrapped in making a crunching noise as he set it down on John's keyboard.

When Sherlock silently creeped back into 221B, the flat was dark and it seemed John was already asleep. Oh well, he'd talk to him tomorrow. Maybe he would invite John out to dinner or something like that. With his feet rested comfortably on the arm of the sofa, Sherlock closed his eyes and attempted to get some sleep.

For John, of course.


	4. Day 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, it was a date. But Sherlock didn't want John to know that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which John is so clueless it's funny.  
> (Also, impatience has driven me to post this just less than a day early. You're welcome.
> 
> xx Lex

The next day, John came home early from work. This worried Sherlock. A lot. Because it could mean two things; One being that John had figured out who his secret admirer was, or two, that he was off of work for an extended period of time. The latter would mean that Sherlock couldn't give John notes, and the other option....could mean that _John would move out._

"You're home early. Did you get a vacation off of work or something?" Sherlock asked coolly, and sat up, making his way to the kitchen. "Tea?" He noticed that John looked surprised at the offer, and smiled lightly.

"Yeah, I'm off till the 10th. And, uh, yeah, I'd like some tea. Thanks."

"You're welcome." Sherlock said, and turned on the kettle, leaning against the counter. "So John, would you like to go out later tonight? Maybe Angelo's?" Dear lord, he hoped that John didn't think of it as a date. Well, it _was_ a date. But Sherlock didn't want John to know that. Thankfully, the man in question looked positively confused and peered at Sherlock curiously.

"Yeah, that'd be great. But are you ok? This is really unlike you, Sherlock." Sherlock nodded and chuckled quietly to himself, shutting the kettle off. They could have tea during dinner, anyways. If John had received his present, that is. He grabbed John's hand and pulled him out the door into the cold London air.

~

Sherlock didn't notice he was still holding John's hand until they walked into Angelo's and John gave a little cough, pulling away. "Oh, sorry. Didn't realize." he mumbled. "Angelo! We need a table!" The slightly pudgy man greeted them excitedly and showed them to a booth by the window. He handed them menus, grinning slightly.

"Ah, you two are perfect! Let me just go get a candle, and I'll be right back to take your orders!"

"Not gay- oh, you know, why doesn't anyone ever believe me?" John muttered angrily and flipped through his menu.

"Didn't know it bothered you that much." Sherlock murmured absentmindedly. John looked up and raised his eyebrows. _Oh no._ Had he said too much? When the food came, Sherlock stuffed his face with pasta to avoid talking.

Dispelling the awkwardness between them, John pulled a small package from his breast pocket. Sherlock immediately recognized the wrapping paper and tried to keep his nervousness unknown. "Weird, this. I've been getting notes, like, love notes, and the person's left me a package. Should I open this?" Not trusting his voice, Sherlock simply nodded and continued chewing.

"Alright then" John tore at the wrinkled paper until a few bags of tea spilled out onto the table. "Ok then." he breathed and stuffed them in his pocket. "Really weird. They know my absolute favorite tea. I never get it though, too expensive." Oh, John didn't have to tell Sherlock that. Sherlock knew. He had an entire wing of his mind palace devoted to such things. Not because of love, of course. _No._ Well....maybe. Never mind that, though.

"Hm. It seems this person knew you well." Angelo passed by again, and Sherlock requested a cup full of hot water and some milk for John's tea. "So, who do you think this secret admirer is?" he asked, twisting the spaghetti with his fork.

"The great Sherlock Holmes is asking _me_ what _I think_? Oh lord, I think I might just swoon." John chuckled. "But in all seriousness, I have no clue."

Good. That was good.

As John sipped his tea and laughed quietly at Sherlock's deductions of the couple across the room, Sherlock began to think he just might make it till Valentine's Day.


	5. Day 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anonymousadmirer@gmail.com [Subject-Hello John.]: Can't leave notes in your office now that you're gone. It feels…empty when you leave.
> 
> [Message sent.]
> 
> This may be the stupidest thing he'd ever done. And Sherlock had gone to see the queen, dressed only in a sheet.
> 
> That was saying something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay for fantastically uncreative email addresses.  
> (what am i even doing anymore someone send help)
> 
> xx Lex

Sherlock woke up with John on his mind.

Now that the man wasn't going to work, how was Sherlock going to send him notes? Maybe email. Yes, that was good. He'd make an email account. Sherlock slid his laptop towards him and went to Gmail. He set his name as "Anon Ymous." No-one would trace it back to him, and NO-ONE would guess that the brilliant Sherlock Holmes would set their name to something so absolutely _uncreative._ Now for the email address. And now to send an email to John.

 **anonymousadmirer@gmail.com [Subject: Hello John.]-**  Can't leave notes in your office now that you're gone. It feels…empty when you leave.

_[Message sent.]_

This may be the stupidest thing he'd ever done. And Sherlock had gone to see the queen herself, dressed only in a sheet.

That was saying something.

 

His computer beeped quietly, and John's reply came almost instantly. Hm. John must be on his compter upstairs.

 **jwatson@gmail.com [Re: Hello** **John.]-**  Wouldn't asking me out be easier than this? You seem like a nice woman, I'd probably say yes.

Oh, so John expected a woman. Of course he would. Why wouldn't he?

 **anonymousadmirer@gmail.com [Re: Hello John.]-**  It would not be easier. But you're very kind to think you'd take any interest in me. I don't think you would, though.

_[Message sent.]_

 

The next reply came quicker this time. Interesting. John seemed to be getting much better at typing.

 **jwatson@gmail.com [Re: Hello**   **John.]-**  We could try. Would you like to come to Angelo's? I'm incredibly bored, my flatmate's still sleeping and I went to get coffee.

 **anonymousadmirer@gmail.com [Re: Hello  John.]-** Maybe your flatmate would like to go to Angelo's with you.

 

A few minutes later, Sherlock's phone rang, and he answered it anxiously.  _"Hey, Sherlock. DIdn't know you were awake. I'm down by Angelo's on my laptop, you wanna eat something?"_

 _  
_"Of course, John. I'd love to."


	6. Day 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> /Oh shit./

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This just might be my only multi-chapter fic that I've ever written. Thank you guys for all the lovely comments and kudos!  
> (This is a day early because IMPATIENCE IS MURDER.)
> 
> xx Lex

With eyes still heavy from sleep, Sherlock opened his laptop and checked his emails on the new account he'd made. He'd been needing a lot more sleep lately. Well, more mind palace time actually. Every day since February 1st had been catalogued on its own shelf in John's room. Every taste, smell, feeling, thought, it was all there.

Sherlock refreshed his inbox and was surprised to find a new email.

 

 **jwatson@gmail.com [Subject: No Subject]:** You know, anon, this whole thing is a bit silly. We're grown adults here. I promise I'll give you a chance no matter who you are. Unless you're Moriarty. That guy's a right bastard.

Oh, so John  _promised_ he would give the mystery person a chance. How reassuring. Sherlock knew his best scenario was probably John not moving out. Ha, like  _that_ would ever happen once John knew the truth.

 **anonymousadmirer@gmail.com [Re: No Subject]:** Hate to tell you this, but I'm probably just as bad as Moriarty. At least in my opinion.

_[Message sent.]_

Sherlock could hear the light ping of Johns computer coming from upstairs, and then a series of clicks as John typed out a response. That was bad. If he could hear John type....then John could definitely hear Sherlock type.

 

 **jwatson@gmail.com [Subject: No Subject]:** I'm sure you aren't. Stop being hard on yourself. You know, the weirdest thing is happening. Whenever my flatmate Sherlock stops typing, I get a response from you. Hehe, maybe he's monitoring our emails.

 

> **jwatson@gmail.com:** Wait a second. Is this Sherlock??!

_Oh shit._

 

_~_

When John heard Sherlock race down the stairs and the front door slam shut, he sat there in shock. Probably didn't move for a couple minutes, actually. Because  _no, Sherlock couldn't be that mean and trick John into thinking someone liked him._ But, then again, Sherlock probably  _could_ be that insensetive and heartless.

John grabbed his phone from the dresser and dialed Sherlock's number. It rang a few times, and just when John started to worry, Sherlock answered.

 _"Hello John. What seems to be the problem?"_ Oh, he  _would_ just try to play it off like that.

"You know damn well what the problem is, Sherlock. Explain what just happened." The other end went silent for a few seconds before Sherlock let out a breathy laugh.

 _"I was tracking the emails, John. Trying to find out who this secret admirer is. No luck, though. They seem to have their IP address blocked."_ Though John knew he should have been relieved at the news, he felt his heart sink.

"Ah, ok. That's good. Keep...um...working on it." There was a click as Sherlock hung up and John let out a sigh.

He didn't see Sherlock for the rest of the day.


	7. Day 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank god for cellular devices.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if the whole texting thing confuses you a bit. :T  
> This is the last chapter I have pre-written. I'll hopefully write the new one tomorrow.
> 
> xx Lex

Sherlock came back to the flat at around 5am. He'd spent the whole of last night buying a phone, because _apparently_ they costed quite a bit more than he'd brought with him, and the cashier was not a very negotiable man.

Punching in John's number on the bright screen, he sent John a message. No use using email anymore, John would probably get suspicious.

 

**It's me. Thought you should know that you are a big part of who I am. AN**

_Jesus! 5am is no time for love letters. JW_

**Well, you seem to be awake. AN**

_I am now! JW_

**Sorry. Didn't realize you'd be sleeping. AN**

_Hm. Anyways, since you say I know you, have you seen Sherlock anywhere? JW_

_I'm really worried. He left last night and didn't come back. JW_

**I'm sure he's back by now, John. AN**

 

"Sherlock!" The man in question heard John call sleepily from his room. "You here?" Sherlock rolled his eyes and let out an exaggerated huff so John would hear.

"Yeah. Making tea. You want some?" He put some water on to boil and set the teabags he had gotten John into two seperate cups. There were heavy footsteps on the stairs, and soon, a very tired John appeared in the kitchen. He hadn't bothered to change into pyjamas, and he had noticeable circles in his eyes along with completely messy hair. Had he really been that worried?

"You don't seem too well-rested, John." Sherlock chuckled, and poured the steaming water into the two cups along with milk, handing one to John. His flatmate glared and leaned against the doorframe, taking small sips of the scalding hot liquid. 

"Your fault, Sherlock. I thought you'd gone off on a case and gotten killed." Oh.  _Oh._

"You were worried?" Sherlock said carefully, and stirred some honey into his tea. John nodded slightly and rubbed his eyes. "I'm sorry." Because Sherlock really was sorry. He hadn't meant to scare John, not at all. At his apology, John's eyes sparkled and he gave Sherlock a small smile.

"Hm. You'd better be."


	8. Day 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Had it really been 8 days?

Sherlock awoke to the dim orange glow of the sunrise peeking through his curtains. He pulled out his phone, and with the light of the screen illuminating his face, checked the date. The 8th. _Had it really been 8 days?_   Time had really been slipping his mind, now that he was so focused on John.

The floor was unusually cold as he padded downstairs, and he hovered by the teapot to warm himself with the steam. Hm. Maybe the heatng had broke? Above him, he could faintly hear the creak of the floorboards as John got out of bed, and the opening of the bathroom door.

"Holy- _Fuck,_ Sherlock, the tile floor is bloody freezing! Have you been messing with the heating?" John yelled, clearly annoyed. Sherlock chuckled and poured two cups of tea.

"Not me this time. The heating broke on its own. I made tea if you want some!" he called. Well of course John would want some, it was cold, and John always had tea in the morning. Since when did Sherlock start stating the _obvious?_

A few minutes later, John came down the stairs, and Sherlock wordlessly handed him a cup of tea, since he was now browsing the internet. For date ideas, of course. Because that was all Sherlock looked up anymore. If anyone ever looked at his search history, they would think he was doing a very serious case about a middle school girl's crush. _'How to plan the perfect date'_ and _'go from best friend to boyfriend'_ were not thing's one would expect Sherlock to look up for his own purposes.

Anyways, one of the sites had said that a way to get close to the person you admire without being too straightforward is to get involved with something they did in their childhood. The only thing Sherlock could really deduce about John's childhood _-and not being able to deduce things was infuriating-_ was that he had grown up poor. Not something Sherlock thought John would want to relive again. So what else could they do for a date?

"John?" he asked cautiously. "What did you like to do when you were a child?" John looked at him quizically, but paused thoughtfully and sipped his tea.

"Hm. I played a lot of football, actually. Haven't played it in a while because of the PTSD in my leg, but now that it's gone..." he trailed off and shook his head. "Why'd you want to know?" Giving a non-commital shrug, Sherlock discreetly typed in  _'parks near baker street, london'_ into Google maps. Hm. Portman Square sounded like a good place to spend the day. 

Now he just needed to get the actual football and learn how to play by tomorrow. But definitely not before lighting a fire in the fireplace.

John was right.

It indeed was  _bloody freezing._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't tell you how much all your awesome comments/kudos mean! Thank you for all the positive feedback and catching my spelling mistakes.  
> I know you're all probably wondering where the whole "heat broke" thing came from.  
> The answer is it's because I'M "bloody freezing" right now. Somehow, the ventilation for the heating broke ONLY IN MY ROOM and it's like 40 degrees (Fahrenheit). That's pretty cold for a house, for all the non-Americans who use Celsius. (BTW your measurement systems are so much easier than ours u lucky shits)
> 
> xx Lex


	9. Day 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John simply laughed harder and took the soccer ball away from John. "I think-" he said through his laughter. "-I've finally found the one thing you're absolute shite at."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can't express how thankful I am for all your kudos and comments. :D  
> So, since there's only like 5 chapters left (with a epilogue maybe), I'm starting on a new fic that's -drumroll please-
> 
> TEENLOCK. Yeah, I'm uncreative as shit. It's going to be called "It's Not That Easy" because it fits the plot, and its my exact thought whenever I try to come up with a title. So keep an eye out for it I guess :T
> 
> Now, this is gonna be my big project. I'm actually gonna put some effort into it. I'm hoping for 1000 words every chapter. The teaser chapter should be up by next Saturday. :D
> 
> xx Lex

Sherlock could tell by the look on John's face that he was utterly surprised that Sherlock wanted to play football. Actually, more like  _learn_ how to play football.

"Well." John said, tossing the black and white ball from hand to hand. "Can't say I expected this." It was obvious he was happy about it though. "Alright, Sherlock. The first thing you'll need to know how to do is dribble the ball."

Sherlock, usually so coordinated and precise, tripped several times trying to control the ball and get it to the other end of the feild. "This is impossible! I can't- oof!" His foot somehow ended up  _on top_ of the soccer ball, and it rolled him forward so he fell face first. "Alright. Can I skip this step?"

John simply chuckled and nodded, pulling Sherlock up from the slightly wet grass. "Next is kicking."

_Oh no._

A few car alarms and one angry mother later, Sherlock quit trying to kick the soccer ball straight. "Pretty sure if I do this anymore I'll end up giving someone a concussion." He was indeed completely serious, but John thought otherwise. The man was doubled over in laughter. "John! I don't understand why this is funny! I nearly killed several people. I'm starting to think  _you're_ the sociopath here."

John simply laughed harder and took the soccer ball away from Sherlock. "I think-" he said through his laughter. "-I've finally found the one thing you're absolute  _shite_ at." Sherlock huffed in annoyance and crossed his arms.

"Glad you enjoyed yourself." This whole outing was supposed to be fun, but he'd probably ruined everthing. To his surprise, John's face softened and he stopped laughing.

"I did enjoy myself. It was fun to play football again, now that my leg works properly again. Thanks to you." he added, smiling.

Well, _thank god_  Sherlock didn't humiliate himself for nothing.

Before falling asleep, Sherlock sent a quick text to John from the 'secret admirer';

**_I wish I'd have known you when we were kids. Maybe I would know what to do now if I had. AN_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to hit the kudos button on your way out if you enjoyed! Thank you <3


	10. Day 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What John Watson didn't know is that Sherlock had access to security cameras around London due to his brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't thank you guys enough for all the comments and kudos. Not sure how you'll all like the teenlock I'm working on at the moment, but I'm editing it a lot to make sure it's up to your standards (and mine) :D
> 
> xxx Lex

When John woke up and looked at his phone, he groaned in annoyance. Why wouldn't this person just tell him who they  _were_  already.

_When are you going to tell me who you are? JW_

Almost immediately, he got a reply.

_**Valentine's day. I suppose it's fitting. AN** _

_Oh_. Well that made quite a lot of sense, actually.

After throwing on some trousers and his favorite cable-knitted jumper, John decided to just go out and relax at a coffee shop or something since he would have to go back to the hectic routine of working at the surgery and solving cases.

He quickly ordered and was about to sit down when a woman caught his eye. Blonde hair, bright, smiling personality, almost the opposite of _Sherlock_. That was good. Maybe...it would help get over the consulting detective if he dated a little.

The lady invited him to sit down, and John found her quite lovely. Her name was Mary Morstan and she was clever, and funny, and just what he needed. After John found that they'd been talking for nearly an hour, he got her number, smiled, promising her a date in the near future, and got a cab home.

 

What John Watson didn't know is that Sherlock had access to security cameras around London due to his brother.

He also didn't know that Sherlock had come to the conclusion that Mary was _perfect_ for John, and was _considering drugs_ at that very moment.

John didn't know any of this.

And Sherlock intended to keep it that way.


	11. Day 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John could instantly tell that there was something /very/ wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angst like woah. But as I've heard, what's valentine's day without some angst? :D
> 
> Aaaanyways, the teaser chapter/prequel thing for my teenlock fic is up. I'd appreciate it if you'd check that out! (It's called "If only it were that easy.") Major trigger warning. Please don't read it if it might cause urges to cut or stuff like that, it's definitely not worth it.
> 
> Now, back to /this/ story. 3 more chapters, guys. 
> 
> xx Lex

When John woke up at 4 am, he could sense that something was wrong.

Actually, he could  _hear_ that something was wrong. There was a faint clang (presumable a needle?) and Sherlock's low voice. " _Shit!"_   It was a quiet whisper, but John had been trained to pick up the slightest sounds in the army, so he heard it.

"Sherlock?" he called. The other man didn't answer. Dear god, John hoped that Sherlock wasn't doing drugs. Pushing the covers away, he opened his door and padded down the stairs, the old wood creaking beneath his feet. When he entered Sherlock's room, he rushed to the bed where his friend was sitting.

Sherlock had a needle.

Sherlock was taking heroin.

"Bloody hell, Sherlock!" he hissed, and practically threw the drugs across the room. "I thought we talked about this. I thought you quit." His voice was stern, but caring, and he sat down on the bed next to the dazed man.

"Sorry. Can I have the drugs back please?" Oh, he had the  _nerve_ to ask for the drugs  _back?_

"No! Are you fucking insane?" Sherlock's pupils were dialated, much more than normal, even in the darkness, and beads of sweat were dripping down his face. He was even sweating from his...eyes? Was Sherlock  _cry_ _ing?_ "Sherlock? Are you ok?"

"No."

Sherlock sighed sadly, and layed back down, his back to John. Alright then. He didn't want to talk, fine. John got up, slightly hurt, and slowly walked out the door.

"I'll be in my room if you need me." he muttered.

"Why would I need you?" Right. Ok. Why would Sherlock ever need  _him._

John shook his head and started up the stairs. "No clue, Sherlock."


	12. Day 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He felt the bed dip beside him, and he smiled softly, even though he knew Sherlock was high and probably didn't know what he was doing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, these are really filler-y chapters, but you need some calm before the storm, right? Hehe, Valentines day, the day we've all been waiting for, is almost here. I actually have a date this year! ^.^ (yay me)
> 
> Anyways, I was really impatient and chapter 2 of the teenlock story is up (please go check it out :D). Also, are you guys okay with some smut-ish stuff for the 14th chapter (or maybe the epilogue, I dunno.) I'm worried that like, younger people might be reading this story, or other people that are just uncomfortable with sexual situations. I'll put a warning (a bolded ~~~~~~) before the sexytimes start so if you wanna skip it you can.
> 
> xx Lex

After a long day of work, all John wanted to do was go to sleep.

He didn't want any insanity from Sherlock.

He  _definitely_ didn't want Sherlock to be high.

And surprisingly, he didn't want a case.

Sherlock was thankfully out of the house, and John trudged up the stairs, shedding his shirt and trousers upon entering his room. Pants would have to do for pyjamas today. He yawned and slipped under the cool sheets, relishing the feeling of soft cushioning under him, and fell asleep, imagining Sherlock was lying beside him.

~

John awoke a few hours later to the slam of the flat door. _Great_. Sherlock was home, and now he'd probably have to get up and go make him tea or something. But John soon noticed Sherlock's steps seemed a bit odd, he sounded like he was almost.. _.drunk?_ No. Sherlock didn't drink. He was high, then. Oh god, he'd gone out and gotten _more drugs_ , hadn't he. Well, if Sherlock wasn't going to listen to John, then he wasn't going to do anything about it anymore. As much as it hurt him...to not help...

Suddenly, there were creaks on the stairs leading up to John's room. Another soft creak as his door opened, _god, this house really needed some repairs_ , and the scratching of socks on John's wooden floor as Sherlock approached the bed.

John felt the mattress dip beside him as Sherlock got in, and he smiled softly, even though he knew Sherlock was high and probably had _no clue_ what he was doing.

Sherlock was sleeping in John's bed.

John was going to enjoy this while it lasted.

 


	13. Day 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Do you still want to meet me tomorrow? Even though I can tell you're quite happy with Mary? AN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gahh I can't believe only one more chapter left! Thanks for your support, everyone.

Today was the 13th.

Today was the  _13th._

Sherlock shot out of bed in realization, his head slightly fuzzy from taking heroin last night. In his mad dash downstairs, he didn't even realize he was going  _down the stairs._

He didn't even realize he'd spent the night in John's bed.

After skipping the last 4 steps and jumping over them instead, Sherlock slipped his long coat over his robe and ran out the door, so distracted he even forgot his scarf on the table.

He had to get to Angelo's.

But...

What if now that John had met _Mary_ , he didn't want to meet his mystery admirer anymore?

Sherlock pulled out his second phone and sent a quick text to John.

_**Do you still want to meet me tomorrow? Even though I can tell you're quite happy with Mary? AN** _

_Of course I do. Mary's pretty and smart, but she can be a bit stuck up at times. JW_

Sherlock let out a breath of relief as he sat down in the cushioned seat of the cab. Thank  _god._

Now all he had to do was make sure Angelo was able to set up everything perfectly for tomorrow.

There was no room for mistakes.


	14. Day 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Today was the day.
> 
> "Valentine's day."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy crap, has it really been 2 weeks? Um...wow. I never could have guessed that so many people would like this story. Thanks, guys.
> 
> Anywaysssss....
> 
> Smut will be in the epilogue.
> 
> And I hope I didn't disappoint you with this chapter.
> 
> xx Lex

 

Sometimes upon waking up, your head is fuzzy, and you don't notice important things until a few moments of organizing your thoughts.

That was an accurate description of Sherlock's morning.

John had left for work, and Sherlock had trudged out of his room a few minutes later, picking up the hot tea left for him on the counter.

Suddenly the cup dropped to the floor and shattered. Sherlock barely noticed because he had just realized something important.

Today was  _the day._

_Valentine's day._

_The day that John would stop being Sherlock's friend and move out._

But he couldn't be having those kinds of thoughts now, he had a date to go on.

Sherlock grabbed his phone from the table, and, stepping over the broken teacup and hot liquid seeping into the floorboards, he texted John.

_**Well. Today's the day. When should we meet? AN** _

He was so on edge that he almost jumped when his phone buzzed a few moments later.

_Maybe a 5:00? Angelo's, right? JW_

_I can't wait to meet you. JW_

_**5:00's good. I...hope you won't hate me when you meet me. AN** _

_I promise I won't. JW_

Oh, John. Making promises that you can't keep.

~

Sherlock was seated in a candlelit booth, nervously fiddling with the tablecloth when John texted him.

_Alright, mystery woman. I'm pulling up. Where do I go? JW_

_**Go in, turn left. 5th booth down. AN** _

There was a rattle as the door opened, but Sherlock didn't dare turn around.

There were uneven footsteps as  _someone_ approached the booth, but Sherlock couldn't risk showing his face until John sat down.

Then John sat down.

~

Sherlock could practically see the gears turning in John's head. "I...um...suppose you're wondering why I've brought you here today." he forced out. "As you know-"

"Wow." John cut him off. "This might have been the cruelest experiment yet, Sherlock." Wait...what? Did he already do something wrong?

"John, what did I do? I couldn't have messed this up already, could I?" he asked nervously, his eyes darting from the window to John. The man in question raised his eyebrows slightly.

"You mean to tell me you see nothing wrong with letting someone believe someone actually loves them? But then it's actually an _experiment_?" John was almost shouting now.

Oh.

He thought...

"John..." Sherlock started softly. "I..this wasn't an experiment. I wanted to take you on a...date? Is that what they call it?" He shook his head, chuckling sadly. "I mean, I'm almost _sure_ you'll hate me after this, but it's worth a try." Sherlock saw everything click for John, and the man gave a disbelieving laugh.

"You...but you're a sociopath. You don't  _do_  sentiment." Despite his words, John slid his hand under the table and grabbed Sherlock's hand, slipping his fingers through Sherlock's long, slender ones. He looked up at Sherlock hopefully. "Do you really...?" Oh God, John actually  _didn't leave._

"Yes." Sherlock muttered, trying not to blush as the warmth of John's hand seeped into his own. "I do care. I've collected data, and everything points to...love? I think I love you?" His voice was so quiet, it wasn't much more than a breathy whisper.

But John heard it.

He smiled softly and leaned in to kiss Sherlock. This was like nothing he'd ever felt before. John's lips were like a pleasant fire on his mouth, soft and hot, with a faint taste of tea. It ended all too soon when Angelo cleared his throat and tapped him on the shoulder.

"You boys ready to order? Everything is free for Sherlock and his date."

Sherlock pulled away, blushing furiously, and glanced at the menu. "Fettuchini pasta. And ah, some red wine please?" Angelo smiled in amusement and turned to John.

"And you? What would Sherlock's boyfriend like?"

John shook his head. "I'll share with Sherlock. Make it a meal for 2."

Hm. Maybe John was going for a 'Lady and the Tramp' spaghetti moment.

Sherlock didn't mind one bit. It was Valentine's day, after all, and he'd just become the luckiest man in the world, even though statistically, that wasn't true. Whatever. He sure felt like it.


	15. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The (long awaited?) epilogue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all I want to apoligize for how fricking late this is. (I really am sorry, im just so terrible at smut it took a while) 
> 
> Second, if you couldn't guess, this is basically porn w/o plot. Yep. So leave immediately if you dont wanna read that.
> 
> xx Lex

It took all of Sherlock's willpower to stay a reasonable distance from John until they got back to the flat. (If he'd gotten too close, John might have found himself lacking clothes.)

So as soon as they got to the flat, Sherlock shoved John against the wall and kissed him feverishly, having waited  _far too long_ for this to waste another second.

John moaned softly, the sound going straight to Sherlock's cock, and his hips bucked involuntarily into Johns, eliciting another wonderful sound from the man.

"God,  _Sherlock."_

The words buzzed pleasantly on his lips, and Sherlock kissed John more needily.

Clothes disappeared quickly- Sherlock didn't know when, or where, and frankly he didn't care. 

They'd made it up the stairs to Sherlock's room and Sherlock was now splayed out on the mattress beneath John's built frame. John was...beautiful. And Sherlock needed him.

John stroked Sherlock's cock in slow, languid strokes, and the dark haired man couldn't help but whine pitifully. "Please." he muttered shyly "I want you inside me. Please."

And John, as always, was perfectly happy to comply to Sherlock's request.

Sherlock's mind was racing with so many thoughts that he barely noticed the pop as a bottle was opened, barely noticed John's fingers stretching him, preparing him.

But his mind blanked as John pressed a soft, loving kiss to his lips. "Alright?" he murmured.

"Of course."

And John slid in slowly, and it was bliss.

Neither of them lasted very long, with John thrusting quickly, and Sherlock, canting his hips up in time with John.

Something shifted, and Sherlock came with John's name on his lips, spasming around John, who followed soon after as he rode Sherlock through the climax.

John cleaned them both off with a flannel and laid back down next to Sherlock. He pulled him close, and Sherlock smiled to himself as  the other nuzzled his hair. 

And if Sherlock whispered "I love you." quietly while John was falling asleep, he doubted either of them would remember the next morning.

But John's murmured "Love you too, Sherlock." made him question why he'd ever want to forget.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there we have it. Unbeta'd, unbritpick'd, and unnecessarily late.
> 
> Again, sorry. There will also maybe be a sequel. Idk, how bout like "14 days of sherlock trying to awkwardly propose bc he wants it to be perfect"
> 
> Thank you guys for everything. This has been really fun.  
> xx Lex


End file.
